A Marshal's Embrace Read online

  She released her hold on the rail and held her palms up in surrender. “Okay. I give. I’m sorry.” After all, Ryker was in the hospital. She shouldn’t be picking on him. Where was her professional, gracious bedside manner? The one all her patients and their families commended her on.

  What happened to make Ryker lose his spleen? Subduing an unruly suspect? Or did Ryker’s fiancé, Jennifer, haul off and punch him in the gut? Danae wrinkled her nose. Nah. Not Miss Prim and Prissy. Jennifer didn’t have the oomph in her to cause any damage.

  “And after all I did for you, too.” Ryker’s lips kicked up in one corner, but the pain still lingered. She could see it in the “v” furrowed between his brows and the way his hair stood straight up from the countless times his fingers swept through. And his smile. He wasn’t showing any teeth.

  He might be in pain, but he was still having a little fun at her expense. She said she was sorry. She pressed her lips together, rested fists on her hips.

  “Do you think you should be in here? I’m practically naked.”

  She snorted. He was worried about how he was dressed? “What’s the matter, Ryker? Embarrassed that a macho guy like you passed out in front of me?”

  His eyebrows did that snarly thing, and his cheeks got all puffy. It did the man good to know he wasn’t made of steel. Her eyes did a quick dart to his abs and the rippling muscles as he pulled a t-shirt over bare skin. She gulped.

  Um, maybe he was right. He was practically naked. She blinked. Anything to clear the image of that bare chest.

  She gripped the gurney again, this time to keep her hands from smoothing down his thick, unruly hair. Funny how she’d never noticed how thick his hair was, how each strand poked up with a mind of its own when he ran his fingers through it. And how her fingers suddenly itched to do the same. What would it feel like to run her fingertips across the light beard he’d grown since he’d been out of work?

  She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Yep. The man was definitely too dangerous for her peace of mind.

  She needed to get out of here before she gave in to the temptation to stroke his cheek and whisper that everything would be all right. Her scoff covered the quickening of her pulse and quivering legs. “You’re wearing a t-shirt and boxers, Ryker. And you’ve got a blanket covering your legs. I’ve seen you in less clothes playing a game of basketball.”

  Dr. Levi, perched on a stool and typing notes in the laptop on the counter, shook his head and laughed. “If I didn’t know Danae was single, I would think you two were married.”

  “Nooo.” Ryker shuddered and shook his head. “We grew up together. Dane’s like a sister.”

  Danae bit her bottom lip to keep from blowing out steam. What was so wrong with the idea of being married to her? He actually shuddered. She wanted to shake him until his teeth rattled.

  Doc Levi flashed a grin her way, amusement lighting his eyes. “Sister, eh?”

  She bobbed her head, hoping to mask the hurt. “Yep. Practically siblings.”

  Doc Levi walked over to the sink, glancing over a shoulder at her as he scrubbed his hands. “Danae, if you’re not flying tomorrow, would you like to go—” His phone buzzed, and he frowned at the interruption.

  Not Danae. The doc was a friend, someone she didn’t mind having lunch or coffee with when she was in the hospital, but nothing more. He seemed so thin and gaunt compared to the giant of a man perched on the end of the hospital bed, all brawn and muscle and restrained strength.

  All she wanted to do was flee from this confined space and get outside where her nerve endings didn’t feel so raw and exposed, where she could gulp a few cleansing breaths. What was wrong with her? She had less room to work in the helicopter.

  Doc Levi wiped his hands on a towel and pulled the phone out to read the message, his smile fading as he turned to face them. “Excuse me. I’m afraid I need to cut this conversation short. I don’t suppose you’d want to stick around for observation tonight?”

  Ryker gave a slow shake of his head. Danae restrained herself from pumping a fist in the air. Yes!

  “I didn’t think so. You’ll need to make a follow-up appointment with your primary care doctor.” He turned his attention to Danae, a little regret pulling at the edges of his smile. “Sorry, Danae. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Yeah, see you later.” The doctor breezed through the curtain, and she released her breath, relieved that the doctor hadn’t followed through with his invitation.

  Ryker snorted, his face contorting into a disgusted look. “I’m glad I didn’t have to witness that spectacle.”

  Danae cocked her head to the side. “What spectacle?”

  “The doctor asking you out. Weird.”

  Danae folded arms over her chest. “Why do you find that ‘weird’?”

  He waggled his head emphatically and snatched the blood-stained white shirt off the chair. “I don’t know. Just weird. Let’s get out of here.”

  Just like Ryker not to address his emotions. The marshal buttoned his shirt, and she turned to stare at the curtain. Watching him dress seemed far too…intimate.

  And when he snatched his pants off the chair, her pulse dropped to her knees. Nope. That she couldn’t handle. “I’ll wait outside while you finish dressing.”

  “About time.”

  She slipped outside the curtain and glanced at the clock on the wall of the emergency room. Nine-thirty.

  Ryker appeared behind her.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  He grinned and tucked the prescription into a pocket. “What? Me getting dressed or the emergency room visit?”

  “Both, actually.”

  “It helps when you carry a gun.”

  “Remind me to call you the next time I have to visit the doctor. I’ve been stuck waiting for an hour before.” He draped an arm around her back, leading her to the exit. She tamped down a frustrated sigh, knowing he wasn’t being affectionate. He just wanted someone to lean on. “Where to?”

  “Since you forced me to arrive by ambulance, I’m at your mercy for a ride.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to get you in my car? I couldn’t very well lift you.”

  “No?”

  “No!”

  “Didn’t you take weight training in school with the guys?”

  Danae glared at him. “You know I didn’t take weight training with the guys. I suppose I could have called for the chopper.” It paid to know all his little secrets. Fear of heights and anything that flies at the top of the list.

  His face turned sickly white.

  She probably shouldn’t have said that. “I’m sorry, Ryker. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  He nodded.

  “Unless it was an absolute emergency.” Served him right for that sister comment.

  “See if I rescue you anymore.”

  “You didn’t rescue me. I rescued you.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Where to, marshal?” The double exit doors swooshed open. She glanced sideways and grimaced at the dried blood coating the front of his shirt. “I’m sure the reception is winding down. Even so, we can’t go back looking like this.”

  “I vaguely remember somebody promising me ice cream if I rescued them from their unpleasant predicament.” Ryker grinned. Both rows of teeth gleamed in the darkness.

  “You’re stuck on that rescue thing, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. I’ll take Butter Pecan.”

  “I knew it!”

  He laughed but stopped at once and gripped his side. “Ouch. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”

  “No guarantees there. It seems like you’re always laughing at me.”

  “Not at you, Dane.”

  Sure seemed like it. Danae thought about the picture she’d seen of Ryker and Jennifer, after the pair had announced their engagement. Stephen had shown it to her on his phone. Two faces smiling at each other, full of love and the promise of happy-ever-after.

  Just once Danae would
like to see a man look at her that way. But she knew that would never happen. Love and happy-ever-after didn’t go together. Not in her life, anyway. Only in dreams and books with fairy tale endings.

  “We’ll have to change first. All the little kids will start screaming if they see us like this.” Danae chewed on her bottom lip. Would he suggest changing at her house? How would she dodge that bullet?

  Ryker nodded and opened the driver’s door of her little car, the squeak making him wince. “We better stop by my truck so I can get a change of clothes.”

  She settled behind the steering wheel, watched him walk to the passenger side, his back and shoulders straight, his steps slow and measured. Why didn’t Ryker try to take the keys? Control freak that he was, the man never let her take the wheel. He must have realized that he was in no shape to drive.

  Knowing he wouldn’t want her pity, she kept her eyes glued to the snazzy Lexus parked next to them while Ryker lowered himself into her tiny car with a moan.

  She loved her car, but he probably wouldn’t be in as much pain getting in and out of his truck.

  “Need some things from your truck?” She backed out of the parking spot, glancing sideways at him as she pulled out of the lot.

  He nodded. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  Maybe he would be better off resting. “Um, where are you staying tonight?”

  “I don’t know yet. I can’t get into my house until tomorrow.”

  “Get into your house?” She jerked her head sideways. “What house?”

  “My house.”

  “Your house? The one your Granny rented out?”

  “That would be the one. The renters are moving out. The attorney will have the keys for me tomorrow morning.”

  She turned her attention back to driving. Whoa! Danae twisted the steering wheel, narrowly missing the exit gate.

  Goose bumps tingled along her bare arms. Ryker was moving back to Serenity Ridge? Into his family’s house? The one he’d lived in until his world had turned upside down? “I thought you planned to sell that house.”

  He shrugged, winced. “I haven’t decided.”

  She navigated the few roads to the hotel on automatic pilot.

  Is that where he and Jennifer planned to live after they married? Dread curled up Danae’s spine, replacing the goose bumps. A sick feeling settled in her stomach. How could she live in the same town, see Ryker every day with the woman of his dreams wrapped in his arms, towing around little golden-eyed mini-Rykers?

  What was wrong with her? The man was in some serious pain and she had a gazillion questions she wanted to fling at him. She dug deep, managed to scrounge up a little compassion and a weak smile. “Wow. That’s wonderful, Ryker. It’ll be like old times having you around.”

  The look he flashed her did funny things to her insides. Scary. Tamping down her childhood crush on him had been so much easier when he was out of the picture.

  She downshifted into the hotel parking lot and stopped next to his truck. “Can I get what you need?”

  “Nah. It’ll just take a minute.”

  More like five for him to extricate himself from her car and pull an overnight bag from the passenger side of his truck. He’d looked so pitiful in her car with his head almost touching the roof. And she didn’t know if she could take much more shoulder rubbing.

  She selected a CD from her collection and stepped out of the car, one hand resting against the top of the car, the other holding the door and the CD. “How about we take your truck, Ryker? You’ll be much more comfortable.”

  The painkiller the doctor gave him must be taking effect because it took him a few seconds to focus. “Yeah. That might be a better idea.” He dropped the bag back into the cab.

  She locked her baby and pocketed the keys. Ryker dropped the truck fob into her hand. “Think you can drive it?”

  “Um, yeah. Course. No worries.” She eyed the huge monster dwarfing her petite sports car. Maybe he should be a little worried.

  She hopped into the cab and mashed the ignition button. The engine roared, much louder than her baby’s purr, and she turned right out of the parking lot, skimming the curb. She winced. “Sorry.”

  Ryker only rolled his eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Danae pushed in the CD. Amy Grant’s soothing voice filled the car. She turned the volume low.

  A small snore lifted over the sound of the music. Ryker’s mouth hung open. She resisted the urge to thunk his chin with a palm like she used to do and smiled. He wasn’t up to changing his clothes, let alone an ice cream run. He needed rest. Where should she take him?

  Even with his weakened reflexes, the marshal in him would still figure out what happened at her house. Best take him to the orphanage, Quiver Full. They could scrounge up an extra bed from somewhere for him to sleep in. She unwrapped a butterscotch and popped it in her mouth while navigating the right turn onto the gravel driveway leading to the orphanage.

  “Take me to your house.”

  “What?” The butterscotch stuck in her throat. She coughed and sputtered, then swallowed it whole and coughed some more.

  Ryker lifted his head from the headrest, those golden eyes direct and alert. How did he do that? He’d been snoring soundly a few seconds ago.

  “I want to see your place.”

  “M-my place?” Did he hear the hesitation in her voice? The tremor? She licked dry lips.

  He lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, studying her. “I’ve never been to your place, Dane, have I?”

  “No.”

  “Is there some reason you don’t want me to see it?” He rubbed the whiskers of his beard with one hand. “Don’t tell me you’re a terrible housekeeper and you don’t want me to make fun of your unmade bed and the dirty breakfast dishes still sitting in the sink.”

  If only. Danae gulped, trying desperately to formulate a reasonable excuse. Another option. A way out of the corner he’d backed her into.

  Unfortunately, after the wedding, the elevator incident, sharing such confined spaces with him, she didn’t have a working brain cell left tonight.

  She shook her head and heaved a sigh, defeat slumping her shoulders. She stopped the truck and maneuvered the heavy lug around, pointing it in the direction of her house. “No reason. My house it is, then.”

  “After what happened tonight, I don’t want you alone.”

  After what happened tonight?

  Good thing he didn’t know about what happened last week or he’d be packing her things to move her back to the orphanage.

  3

  What was The Dane hiding?

  Clutter? An unruly dog? A live-in boyfriend?

  Ryker scowled. Dane? With a serious boyfriend? Nah. Except for the doctor tonight, none of the guys they’d grown up with ever asked The Dane out. Guys didn’t mind hanging with Dane. But dating? That was a different story.

  She was more comfortable holding on to a football or a basketball than a guy’s hand, would rather wear sweatpants or athletic shorts than a party dress. The guys liked to hang out and have fun with her, but date? Nope. Not the guys he knew from the orphanage or school.

  Ryker stole a quick glance, caught her jerking up the top part of the strapless dress, but that did nothing to cover the hollow area exposing the gentle curves that swelled inside. He sucked in a breath, felt his pulse kick up a notch. Easy does it, McLane. Stephen would have your hide if he knew what you were thinking right now.

  “Didn’t you bring a sweater or something?”

  Dane jumped at his harsh words and mashed the brake a little too hard as she maneuvered a turn onto a side street, then again onto a gravel drive. Ryker’s head jerked forward.

  “Sorry.”

  She didn’t look sorry with those narrowed brows and compressed lips.

  “You live in front of a cemetery?”

  Dane grinned, her dimples showing in the darkened cab of his truck. “Better than in it, wouldn’t you say?”

  He couldn’t help but la
ugh but stopped when the pain gripped his side.

  “If you live inside the city limits, you either live around the cemetery or right on the train tracks, Ryker. You know that.” She slowed the truck to a crawl, staring straight ahead.

  He squinted, eyeballing the low-slung overhang that Dane expected to slide the truck under. “Don’t think so, sweetheart. You may be able to zip right in there with that little car of yours, but I don’t think you’d better try that with this truck.”

  Dane grimaced, then nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right. This monster might take the top right off my house.” She stopped the truck on the grass in front of a brick bungalow.

  Ryker rubbed the back of his neck. He wouldn’t have guessed this one to be Dane’s house. He’d have pictured her in something more…modern.

  Stepping stones angled a path in the grass, leading the way to the porch through the lush landscaping in the front yard. Huge potted plants and wicker chairs invited him up to the wrap-around porch.

  Cute. Almost made him wish for things he couldn’t have.

  A home. And not just a house, but a home where a normal family lived. With two or three kids playing on a homemade swing set in the yard instead of the twenty-five, give or take, at the orphanage. A porch like this one or the deck at his house, where he could laze around on Saturday mornings, lingering over coffee with his wife.

  A wife who longed to spend her forever with him with a love that stuck through tough times. A wife that didn’t mind the long hours that he put into his job. A wife that didn’t give up on him even if he lost more body parts. And a real family, not just kids stuck together because they had to be there. Because there was nowhere else to go, because no one else cared for them.

  But being part of a real family was a dream that had died a long time ago. With his mom and dad and sister. Then his granny. And then Jennifer. The way she’d squeezed the ring back into his hand with tears in her eyes and determination steeling her voice. His ex-fiancé had certainly stomped on that fantasy with her size six.